HP May Madness Drabbles
by persephoneapple
Summary: Fluff, romance, and silly ridiculous ideas that pop into my mind and need to be written. Fifteen drabbles written during May using different prompts and a minimum of 200 words. Mostly Harry/Draco and are unrelated to one another. Thunderstorms, kissing, zombies, strawberry, oak, lemon, What's in a name, runes, Take a chance of me, wanking, sea glass, green grass, muggle technology.
1. Raindrops and Teardrops

**Raindrops and Teardrops**  
**Harry/Draco, Teddy [G, 930 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: rain showers/thunderstorms.  
**Summary:** Teddy is scared of the storm outside, but he doesn't trust Draco enough to ask for help.

* * *

Raindrops and Teardrops

Teddy sat huddled in his bed underneath his blankets, trying to convince himself that he was a big boy. He needn't be afraid of the thunderstorm because he was safe inside where nothing could harm him. Besides, his godfather Harry had told him that he would always protect him from anything, and Harry would never lie to him.

Except that Harry was gone and his cousin Draco had been left to take care of him. An hour ago, right after dinner, he had tucked Teddy into bed without reading him a bedtime story. His only words were to call him in case Teddy needed something. And Teddy had desperately wanted to call him several times since the storm started, but always changed his mind at the last second.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Draco, but he didn't really know him. Draco was just another person that Harry had brought home for Sunday brunch and introduced him as Teddy's cousin. To Teddy, however, he was a stranger. Draco was so serious, with his books and black robes, plus he rarely smiled, and while not quite mean, looked like he didn't like kids. Teddy wanted the comfort of his godfather, whom he was sure wouldn't tease him for being afraid of something as silly as the weather.

Another strike of lightning flashed across the sky, followed quickly by the thunder that seemed to shake the entire house. Teddy curled himself into a small ball and called out, "Harry!" He pressed his fingers against his mouth to prevent any more words from escaping and tried not to cry. A few minutes of silence passed by, before at last a knock sounded at the door.

"Teddy," the voice asked before the door creaked open and footsteps came to the bed. Teddy didn't move as the mattress sunk a few inches and a hand was placed on his back in an attempt to soothe him. "What's wrong?"

"N-n-nothing." Teddy closed his mouth to stop his teeth from chattering. He wished he had asked Harry if he could have stayed at the Burrow, where his grandmum would have offered warm milk and biscuits to help him go back to sleep. Being a Potions Master, Draco would probably give him a mild dose of a sleeping potion.

"That's not true." Draco's voice became clearer as he moved the blankets down to see Teddy's face. "Are you hurt? Did you have a nightmare?" His forehead creased in frustration when he didn't receive an answer to any of the questions.

Another lightning flash and this time the thunder sounded as if a whip had been cracked just outside his window where it rattled with the wind. Teddy hugged his knees to his chest and asked in a quiet voice, "Is Harry home?"

"Not yet, and I really don't know what time he's returning." Teddy's shoulders slumped a little and Draco cleared his throat before saying, "Teddy, you do know that you can tell me what's bothering you and I'll see what I can do."

Teddy looked up to see that Draco was not just asking to be polite, because Draco had his wand already raised like he could use magic to solve any and all problems.

_Well_, Teddy thought, _here goes nothing_ and he took a deep breath, saying, "I don't like the thunder or the lightning. It's too loud, which scares me." There, he had said it and he turned around so he would have to see Draco laugh at him.

"That's nothing a good Silencing charm can't fix." Teddy turned his head around to see Draco wave his wand and immediately the noise outside the room stopped. Teddy saw the flash of lightning, but without the sound, he could imagine it being a single firework that had been lit by his uncle George.

"Better?" Draco was looking at Teddy with caution and was surprised when Teddy reached out and hugged him, burying his head against Draco's chest. He smelled like lemongrass oil, completely different from Harry's mint scent, but it was comforting.

Teddy pulled away after one last hug and said, "Thank you. Did Harry tell you to do that?"

"No, but my mother always used a Silencing charm when I was younger, even when I was too proud to ask." Draco's eyes were sad, but he still reached out hesitantly to pat Teddy's head. Teddy didn't want Draco to be sad, not when he had made Teddy feel safe, so he changed his hair the same shade of blond as his cousin's. He looked up to see the older man surprised and with a hint of a smile on his face.

"I'd forgotten you were a Metamorphmagus," Draco said as he stood up to leave, but Teddy pulled his hand back and asked, "Stay, please?"

"You won't mind?" Draco asked, and when Teddy shook his head, Draco nodded and used his wand to enlarge the bed to settle down for the night.

And that is how Harry found them when he came home. Draco lay draped across the bed, one arm wrapped protectively around Teddy, who had kept the white blond hair and was snoring softly. Harry shook off his auror robes, kissed Teddy on the forehead, before laying down beside them and watching the rain fall outside the window with the occasional lighting strike. He had let Draco babysit tonight, hoping that Teddy would get to know his cousin better and that someday in the future, they could become a proper family. It was too early to tell, but Harry hoped he was right.


	2. Nothing Short of Wonderful

**Nothing Short of Wonderful**  
**Harry/Draco [R, 966 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and an advisement to suspend your disbelief. Written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: kink: wanking  
**Summary:** Harry has had some strange things happen to him while using magic, but perhaps this was taking things too far.

Or, Or, Harry watches a Polyjuice'd Draco as himself wanking and vice versa.

* * *

Nothing Short of Wonderful

Harry has had some strange things happen to him while using magic, but perhaps this was taking things too far.

The cock he held in his hands was long and slender and when he had first wrapped his fingers around the base, Harry was shocked at how red it looked compared to his pale skin. He had stared in fascination as he traced the veiny underside, making it twitch as he moved his hand up and down to find a rhythm he liked. The cock ended in a thick patch of curly white blond hair that now had Harry wondering more than once if Draco had Veela blood in him.

What surprised Harry the most was how naturally hairless Draco was, and the hair that he did have was so fine, it was almost invisible. It did cross his mind that he had often thought Draco would be vain enough to shave everything so that he would be smooth, but was happy to be proven wrong.

Out of curiosity, Harry placed a finger through the slit and brought it up to his mouth, wincing slightly at the bitter taste. So it just wasn't his own precome that he didn't like. He shrugged his shoulders and then pulled the foreskin back and watched in amusement at how red and _happy_ Draco could be when aroused.

Still, Harry thought as he began wanking again, this wasn't some sick perversion. Harry seriously thought Draco was going to laugh at him when he had come up with the idea after a night of drinking at the Leaky. Harry had explained that he needed a way for him to know what turned him on. He didn't, after all, want to go blindly into his first serious relationship after the war and the first time being with a man. If he could have some sort of reference…

Which surprised him when Draco had arrived a few months later with two vials and a suggestion. He would take Polyjuice to turn into Harry to show him, but Harry also needed to agree to turn into Draco. It was unbelievable and very Slytherin, especially with the excuse Draco had given: that it'd been since Hogwarts that Draco had had a chance to watch someone Polyjuice'd as himself during sex. Harry almost said no.

And here he was, looking down at Draco's body, his to do with whatever he wanted for the remainder of the hour. But, for the moment, he preferred looking over to the only other person in the room.

It was clear that Draco was enjoying himself. He had long since Vanished his clothes and was leaning against the headboard, legs splayed open while he fucked himself into one hand, and had two fingers stuck up his arse.

He looked properly shagged. Was it possible to be jealous of oneself, Harry thought, as he watched Draco moan and gasp, eyes open, pupils wide with lust, head whacking the headboard whenever he was a bit enthusiastic in his thrusts. A few times Draco had abandoned his short, thick cock, to play with his nipples, pinching them until they turned a deep shade of red. How could Harry compete with that?

Soon, the room was full of Draco's moans and Harry was rooted to the spot and could only watch in amazement as Draco began to thrust erratically before he let out a strangled gasp and came all over himself. He kept fisting his cock, milking the last drops of come out until it hung limply in his hand.

Harry had been fascinated and despite his neglect, his cock didn't lose interest. It was now painfully erect against his stomach, spilling even more precome down the shaft. Harry ignored it in favour of looking over at his own appearance now that he could see everything clearly, no danger of his glasses falling off his face.

He was not disappointed. Draco lay there spread out on the mattress, his chest rising and falling as he took in deep breaths. His tanned skin had a flush of colour that complimented his lips, red and swollen where he had been biting down as he concentrated on making himself come. Harry had the sudden urge to lick the skin all over, tracing the hard lines and hallows of his own body.

"Enjoy the show, Potter?" Draco smirked as he saw how aroused Harry was. Lifting himself off the bed with a grace that Harry himself didn't know he had, Draco walked around the bed. But instead of going to the loo, he stood in front of Harry, pushing him down on his shoulders.

"Let me take care of this for you," he said, gripping Harry by the hips to keep him steady.

"That's really not—" Harry didn't even finish the sentence before Draco swallowed him whole. His cock hit the back of Draco's throat, but he didn't choke at all and being trapped in the wet heat was nothing short of wonderful.

Draco licked and sucked, coming up for short breaths before swallowing again. He reached to wrap his hand around the base of Harry's cock and then pulled down to lick his balls. And when he felt Draco trace his hole slowly, he shivered in anticipation. He wanted this. This time Harry forced himself to watch, to see green eyes watch him and Harry wanted to reach out and place his hands in the black hair that was soft despite its appearance.

It soon grew too much for Harry when he felt a finger breach him, and he arched off the bed as the heat in his stomach spread, screaming out Draco's name. When he came to, Malfoy had already turned back into himself and was watching him with a pleased expression.

"Same time next month?"


	3. Deal-Breaker

**Deal-Break**  
**Harry/Draco, Lavender [PG, 475 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and OOC!Draco, but otherwise it's fluffy and Lavender Brown lives. Written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: lavender.  
**Summary:** Lavender Brown could ruin what is perhaps one of the best things in Harry's life after the war.

* * *

Deal-Breaker

Despite being surrounded by owls who flew into the owlry and dropped feathers on them, and standing on ground that was covered in shit, Harry was happy. He was pushed against the wall by Draco, who was busy kissing the life out of him while pulling his shirt up to splay his fingers against warm skin. Giving out a contented sigh, Harry wrapped his arms around the other's neck, smiling when Draco growled and bit his lip.

They broke apart when they heard a startled gasp coming from the entrance. Lavender Brown stood there, eyes and mouth wide open in surprise and the letter she had been clutching fell to the ground.

"I'm sorry— I didn't know anyone would be here this late, but Harry-," she shook her head and before they could get a word in, turned around and raced out the door.

Harry clenched his hands so that he wouldn't be tempted to rush after Lavender and _Obliviate_ her memory. Everything had been going so well; Eighth Year would be finished in a few weeks and then it wouldn't matter that he and Draco were dating since Draco would still receive his inheritance.

But now that Lavender, the biggest gossip at Hogwarts, knew, it would only be a matter of time before the entire world found out, including Lucius Malfoy. No doubt he would then force the arranged marriage on Draco and ruin their plans of him and Harry living together after Hogwarts.

Harry brushed his hands across his face so that there wasn't a chance of any tears escaping, but his hands were pulled away and he looked up in confusion. Draco stared back at him and while he looked angry, lines creasing his forehead, there was concern in those grey eyes.

"Are you all right?"

"No, why should I be?" Harry said, trying to force himself to talk through the tightness in his throat. "It's not like I don't know what's awaiting us when we return to the castle."

"I'll still be your boyfriend," Draco said, but those words were so uncharacteristic of him, that Harry actually laughed as tears began to spill. Draco reached up and wiped them away, and then pulled him closer so that Harry could lean his head against Draco's chest.

"I'm serious. I don't care anymore if my father finds out and disowns me."

Harry's heart beat frantically in his chest. He had been waiting for those words ever since he had agreed to keep this a secret between them. "You don't?"

Draco reached down and squeezed Harry's hand. "I've stopped caring as soon as I realized that I would never be happy without you. So let Brown tell the world that _I'm_ officially off the market, deal?"

Even if he looked like a fool, Harry couldn't help but smile widely as he replied, "Deal."


	4. The Twit

**The Twit**  
**Harry/Draco, Hermione [PG, 373 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: Muggle technology.  
**Summary:** Harry has a problem and asks Hermione for help.

* * *

The Twit

Harry, after glancing around the Muggle coffee shop, leaned in close and whispered, "Do you promise not to laugh if I show you something? I need your help."

Hermione looked on in curiosity as she put down her cup of coffee and nodded.

He reached down underneath the tale, and immediately Hermione exclaimed, blushing furiously, "Harry! You need to see a healer if it's that type of problem!"

"What? No!" His eyes widened and he threw an object on the table.

"When did you get a mobile?" Hermione asked, picking it up with two fingers and inspecting it properly. It was a complete wreck of a mobile, the glass cracked and pieces were missing. The metal work bulged out at odd angels, and one end was so thin as if heat had been applied.  
The burnt smell of melted plastic made her wrinkle her nose.

"I use it to keep in touch with my cousin Dudley and ring him sometimes. It's a very useful way to communicate and I didn't know until today why more witches and wizards don't use them."

Hermione set the mobile down on the table. "I don't know what to tell you other than you need a new one. This," she pointed at the wreckage, "is beyond repair. What happened?"

"I know," Harry replied, giving a small laugh. "I usually carry it with me, but this morning Kingsley asked me to come in early and I left it at Grimmauld Place. When I came home, this was on the kitchen table."

Hermione frowned. "Don't tell me Kreacher did this?"

Harry shook his head and cut her off before she began her speech about house-elf rights. "Draco did. My ringtone is birds chirping— what, I thought it was the least obnoxious. However, Dudley tried to ring me all morning to tell me that my aunt was in the hospital. Since Draco couldn't figure out how to answer, and the birds, as he called it, wouldn't shut the fuck up, he hexed the mobile until it became like this."

Harry couldn't blame Hermione for laughing, since he also thought it was amusing that his pureblood boyfriend couldn't use a simple Muggle phone. "So now you see why I need your help?"


	5. Pride

**Pride**  
**Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron [PG, 400 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and inspired by _Scott Pilgrim vs. the World_. Written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: magenta.  
**Summary:** Draco's feathers are ruffled.

* * *

Pride

"Not one word, Potter," was all Draco said when he Apparated into Grimmauld Place. Harry looked up from his spot on the couch, dropping the Quidditch magazine he had been reading when he saw bright magenta walking down the hallway. By the time he had reached their bedroom, Harry heard beginning to take a shower. He tried the door, but as expected, it was locked.

"What happened?" Harry asked, straining his ears, but all he could hear was mumbling and a few curse words. He Summoned the Extendable Ears and when placed against the door, Harry heard this: "It's not coming off! Fucking Weasel, blaming me for turning his best friend into a poof!"

Harry sighed. He knew that Ron would not take news of their relationship well, but there was still that hope that they could act like the adults they were. Apparently not, and was he really surprised not to expect this from a person who worked at a joke shop? Harry put away the Ears and went to fire call Hermione.

* * *

Draco took one last look in the mirror and sneered. Magenta was not his colour _at all_. He supposed he wouldn't half-mind if his hair was blue, but magenta was too close to red for his comfort. He walked out of the bathroom, clad in silk pyjamas, because all he wanted to do was crawl straight into bed and hope that this was just a nightmare that he could wake up from.

He walked to the kitchen, calling out Potter's name, but he's met with silence. He grasped his wand tighter in his hand, because there is someone out there in the living room and he doesn't want to be surprised.

Weasley is there on the couch, Stunned and Sellotaped to his forehead is a note scribbed in Potter's untidy handwriting.

_Draco,_

You have my (and 'Mione's) permission to do whatever you want to Ron, barring all hexes, curses, or anything that can seriously harm him. Nothing permanent! And do try to keep his bits intact, as Hermione's rather fond of them.

Harry

Draco smiled. He knew exactly what he wanted to do.

* * *

Harry and Hermione looked up, startled, when Ron stumbled out of the fireplace. He'd only been gone for half an hour, but Draco had used that time wisely to charm every strand of his hair all the colours of the rainbow.


	6. The Picnic Date Disaster

**The Picnic Date Disaster**  
**Harry/Draco [R, 761 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and an advisement to suspend your disbelief. Written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: green grass.  
**Summary:** _All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt._ - Charles M. Schulz (Yeah, right.)

* * *

The Picnic Date Disaster

Honestly, Draco had no idea why he had let Potter convince him to go on a picnic except that he was bored and didn't have anything else to do. Even though he had scoffed when Potter told him that they were going to eat outside, on the ground, no less, the promise of Potter making it worth his time intrigued him. He had also wanted to see what Potter's idea of a romantic date would be, since they had only been dating for a few months.

They had finished eating a half hour ago, not even bothering to clean up the remainder of their meal, which lay spread out a blanket a few feet away. It wasn't too bad, Draco thought, now that he had a full stomach, the sun was warming his body and most importantly, Potter was whispering filthy things in his ear that made him terribly aroused.

Which he deemed could be the only excuse as to why he was allowing Potter to push him down on the green grass and kiss him, instead of grabbing their broomsticks for a game of Quidditch. Draco stared lazily through half-lidded eyes at the blue sky as Potter settled between his legs, glasses tossed to the side as his fingers worked quickly to unbutton Draco's shirt.

The faint breeze made him shiver and Draco moaned when Potter's fingers finally touched his skin, tracing the hard lines of his body, pausing in all the places he liked. Potter pinched Draco's nipples, not even waiting for them to harden before he pulled on them, and Draco hissed at the dual pain and pleasure. He heard a chuckle as Potter reached down to yank off his trousers and Draco eagerly lifted his hips in anticipation.

"Look at me," Potter said, his breath so very warm near Draco's cock, but Draco shook his head. He didn't want to open his eyes because even though Potter had cast a Notice-Me-Not and a Silencing Charm to ward off people, he loved not knowing what Potter had in mind.

For a few seconds, there was no movement, but still Draco waited patiently and was rewarded when he felt a drizzle of something, not lube, more viscous and warm, on his cock. He frowned until the gentle breeze brought the scent to his nose. Chocolate.

This was different, but so like Potter to use his sweet tooth for everything on their picnic date. Their entire dessert was hot fudge sundaes, a delicious combination of strawberries, nuts, whipped cream, sprinkles, and, of course, chocolate. Chocolate that was now being gently spread up and down his cock before he felt Potter lean down and suck on the head.

As always, Draco felt the urge to go deeper into Potter's mouth, to hit the back of his throat, but hands pressed down on his hips to stop his movements. Instead, Draco had to endure the torture of small licks that were providing no relief, but he wouldn't begin to beg this early.

Except, that instead of pleasure building inside as he expected, he felt the pain of pins and needles- and Merlin, was that fire? What the fuck was Potter doing?

Draco opened his eyes into the blinding sun and pushed Potter away, a hint of drool coming down his mouth and stared down, wide eyed. Ants were mixed in with the chocolate, mostly dead, but there were few that were alive and biting him! Potter, that idiot, had just Summoned the open container of chocolate and in his blind state, hadn't realized that there were ants crawling on him.

Draco grabbed his wand and _Scourgified_ every inch of skin until he felt clean, but the pain was still there. However, there was no way in hell that he would go to St Mungo's and risk further humiliation.

"I'm so sorry, Draco!" Harry said, putting on his glasses before he tried to lean in to get a better look. Draco rose and haphazardly buttoned his clothes, wincing when they rubbed against his skin.

Making a decision to see Severus, surely he would know what salves and potions to use, Draco spared only a second to say to Potter, "I don't even know what to say or do that won't result in me killing you, so I'll be at the Manor."

Harry winced at the _crack_ of Disapparation, and shook his head sadly. He had fucked up royally, but one thing was for sure: this was the last time he ever asked Ron for ideas of romantic dates, even if he was desperate.


	7. Choices

**Choices**  
**Draco/Astoria, Scorpius [G, 775 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: oak.  
**Summary:** Scorpius goes to buy his first wand.

* * *

Choices

Scorpius had never thought he would shop in Diagon Alley with both of his parents, yet here he was, standing between them as they exited Flourish and Blotts with three sacks full of books.

There were two places his father didn't enter: Madam Malkin's robes shop and Ollivander's Wand Shop. He dropped them off at the latter shop, saying that he had some business to attend to at Gringotts. Before Scorpius could ask why, his mother had ushered him inside the empty shop to buy his first wand.

Old Ollivander now used a cane and he had glasses so thick, it would have been kinder to call him blind. However, when he saw Scorpius, he gave a double-look and peered down at Scorpius for a long time, who fought the urge to squirm. At last, Ollivander leaned back in his chair and asked in a quiet voice, "Are you Draco Malfoy's son?"

Scorpius nodded, clasping his hands behind his back and too late he realized that he should have offered the shop owner his hand.

"Where will you be attending?" Ollivander's voice was rough and he had a stern expression on his face, which made Scorpius wish he had his mother standing right next to him.

Scorpius swallowed hard before saying, "Hogwarts, Sir." If Ollivander was surprised at being addressed so properly by a young child, he didn't show it.

"Do you have any idea into which House you will be Sorted?"

At this, Scorpius had nothing to tell but the truth. "I honestly have no idea. I'm lucky just to have been accepted into Hogwarts at all." His father had been extremely pleased and proud when Scorpius had received his Hogwarts letter, smiling and giving him a fierce hug, which had surprised Scorpius. Draco Malfoy almost never gave any signs of affection, even to his own mother.

When Scorpius had asked his mother in private about why his father has been surprised about him being accepted into Hogwarts, she had murmured something about Beauxbatons and Durmstrang being too far away and his father would have missed him.

"Yet, Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad." At least he would have his books, even if no one befriended him.

All day, he had seen children walking around excited, laughing with each other and it made him yearn to be a part of it. However, no one had talked to him, even going so far as to ignore him when they recognized him. Scorpius had never felt so lonely, but it was expected as the son of a Death Eater. At least he hadn't been hexed.

Mr Olivander gave a slight frown. "You don't believe you'll Sort into Slytherin? After all, every Malfoy going back several generations has belonged to the same-"

"That's enough!" Astoria Malfoy said behind him, and Scorpius could hear the fury in her voice increase as she continued speaking. "Either let him choose a wand or we'll take our business elsewhere."

The look Ollivander gave Scorpius' mother would have made a weaker person tremble. "You forget, Mrs Malfoy, that it's the wand that chooses the wizard based on his character traits."

"Just what are you implying? He is just a child. Do not blame the sins of his father on him." Astoria placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

"Very well." Mr Ollivander stood up from behind the counter and Summoned many long, thin boxes for Scorpius to try.

* * *

"Let me see it," Draco Malfoy said later that evening, holding out his hand expectantly. They had retired to his study after dinner and now Scorpius began to feel nervous. He didn't want to part with his wand so soon after taking so long to find it, but he was curious about his father's opinion on something so precious.

"It's thirteen inches long, made of English oak," Scorpius began. "I know it's a common tree, nothing like your hawthorn used for medicine, or Mother's birch-"

"Oak is perfectly fine," his father interrupted. "In fact, the oak tree is considered sacred to the Muggle Greek god, Zeus."

Scorpius smiled, pleased that so far his father didn't find fault with his wand. "He was actually surprised when this wand chose me."

"Oh?" Draco frowned at his son's words.

"Mr Ollivander said it was an exemplary wand for Defensive spellwork and that I could do great things with this wand."

"There's nothing unusual about that. And the wand core?" Draco examined the wand up close, finding it rather flexible and red sparks shot out when he tried it. He was so surprised that he almost didn't hear Scorpius' answer.

"A single phoenix feather."


	8. Rouge

**Rouge**  
**Harry/Draco [PG, 875 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd, weird use of lipstick, and the ending's rushed. Written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: kink: kissing.  
**Summary:** Somewhere around his fourth drink, he made up his mind that he would convince Malfoy that there were benefits to kissing the Boy-Who-Lived. And not just in secret.

* * *

Rouge

If Harry could find any fault in their relationship, it was that Malfoy didn't like public displays of affection. Thus a reason for it being kept a secret.

Harry wanted to change that, so he figured he'd start with something small. It didn't have to be much, Harry reasoned, not when he had witnessed the disaster of Ron's oh-so-_wonderful_ fling with Lavender, but he was still human. And while what happened in the privacy of their living quarters was amazing, he still wanted small reminders throughout the day such as holding hands and kissing.

He admitted to himself that being in love addled his mind.

It was at the Leaky where Harry had this brilliant idea. He had all of his brilliant ideas there and since Malfoy was away at a Potions conference, Harry drank to his heart's content. Somewhere around his fourth drink, he made up his mind that he would convince Malfoy that there were benefits to kissing the Boy-Who-Lived. And not just in secret.

In the harsh light of day, his brain tried to tell him that kissing Malfoy while wearing lipstick was ridiculous. Sure, it would mark Malfoy as Harry's for the moment, but then Malfoy would be angry at being humiliated. To which Harry could respond that keeping their relationship a secret was worse, at least to him. It made complete sense.

He could take the safe option and use lip balm. It was clear, very discrete, and if caught, he had the excuse of saying it helped heal his chapped lips. Never mind that he could always use magic to achieve the same effect.

Yet, Harry didn't do anything by halves, and knew that the only way to convince Malfoy was if he went all out and used lipstick. The prospect made him a little nervous and suddenly, defeating the Dark Lord for a third time didn't seem quite so bad.

Gathering his courage, one day after finishing lecturing his First Year Ravenclaw class, Harry asked Pansy for a favour. As expected, she laughed until in a fit of madness, which he would later claim desperation, he said that Draco liked it.

"All right," she agreed, smirking, and Harry could see her mentally filing away this information to use later. Slytherins always wanted blackmail material on one another and this detail took the cake. But she kept her promise and ordered the lipstick.

When he opened it in secret, he was surprised to find it was a bright shade of red with a normal sounding name: Candy Apple. He'd figure she go with something more scandalous to humiliate him, but what did he know about these matters?

On the morning that Malfoy returned, Harry waited patiently in a hidden alcove in a hallway leading to the entrance of the dungeons. He had already smeared the lipstick on his lips. He didn't care that it wasn't perfect since it would be ruined in a few seconds anyway.

Harry reached out and pulled Malfoy closer to him, enjoying the woodsy smell of his cologne. He pressed his nose against Malfoy's throat, inhaling deeply before starting to kiss him on every available inch of skin. Malfoy moaned, spurring Harry on to begin biting him as well, soothing it over with a lick. When that wasn't enough, Harry pulled on the silk shirt until a few buttons popped off.

"Potter, what's gotten into you? What if someone sees?" Malfoy was breathing erratically, but that didn't stop him from threading his fingers through Harry's hair and guiding him back up for a heated kiss.

When they broke apart, Harry struggled to say, "Let them. I want us to stop being a secret."

Malfoy held still and then leaned closer to his ear, whispering, "I was wondering why you would suddenly smear wax on your face on a whim. Never mind that it's lipstick and one that Pansy would wear when we dated."

When Harry didn't respond, Malfoy pushed him slightly away and muttered _Lumos_. Through half-fogged glasses, Harry could see that Malfoy's eyes were dilated and he gasped at the sight before him. The red smears were a stark contrast on Malfoy's pale skin and Harry reached out and spread a lipstick smear out until it looked a faint blush, mesmerized at the sight.

"You knew?" Harry asked, not quite ready to look up and see what kind of expression Malfoy had on his face.

"Of course I knew, Potter. I could practically smell every ingredient used."

"And you're not angry?"

Malfoy shook his head. "At what? You will never be subtle, Gryffindor that you are, but that can't be helped."

"So, we're okay?"

Malfoy nodded. "We're okay. Now, while I enjoy being, I'm late for class." He reached up to wipe the lipstick off, but Harry reached out and grasped his hand, entwining them. Malfoy looked down and arched an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"Leave it. I rather like the look on you."

"I'm not walking into a classroom full of students like this, Potter." A second later, Malfoy was clean and Harry sighed at the loss. "Tonight, however, you're more than welcome to discuss other… proclivities. After pulling this stunt, I do wonder what thoughts go unfiltered in your mind, Potter."


	9. It's the End of the World

**It's the End of the World**  
**Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, Pansy/Blaise [PG, 711 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: zombies.  
**Summary:** Who do you think would survive a zombie apocalypse?

* * *

It's the End of the World

"Hypothetically, out of all of us, who do you think would survive a zombie apocalypse?" Blaise asked, giving the group a wicked smile as he set down his firewhisky. The group of friends had gathered for their weekly dinner and were waiting for dessert when Blaise had asked the random question.

Well, except for Ron, who still had a knife and fork in his hand and kept trying to cut more meat off the bone. Harry could see Pansy trying to hide her disgust as Ron spoke before he had finished chewing. "A zombie? What's that, some kind of beast Hagrid's raising?"

Hermione sighed, before flicking her wand to Vanish the mess on Ron's plate. "They are creatures similar to Inferi because they are both corpses, but zombies aren't controlled by Dark magic. Also, if you are attacked by one, it's pretty much guarantees that you'll turn into one, too. However, most Muggles think that zombies aren't real."

Ron shrugged and said, "Shouldn't be too hard to defeat, then, if all you have to do is _Incendio_ the fuckers." He looked so pleased with himself that Harry had to bite down the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

"Not if you were stripped of magic, as it is in most cases," Blaise began, but Pansy interrupted him.

"That's ridiculous! Why wouldn't there be magic?" Pansy rolled her eyes as she took a sip from her wine glass. Harry couldn't help but agree with her. After all, he couldn't imagine living in a world without magic, even if any type of apocalypse were to begin tomorrow.

"It's all hypothetical, Pansy, and I'm just curious to see how we would survive relying only on our skills." Pansy rolled her eyes, still annoyed, but let the matter drop.

"Since there's no magic, you'd have to know a lot about Muggle technology and weaponry," Harry said, sharing a grin with Hermione as the purebloods remained silent.

After a waiter had finished serving all of them their dessert, Harry looked up to see Malfoy returning from the loo and gave him a smile. When he sat down, Blaise asked him the same question. Malfoy stared at each person around the table, but had schooled his features so that Harry couldn't tell what he was thinking. Harry almost wanted to put up shields because it almost felt as if Malfoy were using _Legilimens_ to find an answer.

"Ideally, we would all survive, because Granger would have found a cure before it all went pear-shaped," Malfoy said at last. Ron scowled at Malfoy as Hermione beamed. "Still, I think the correct order is Granger, me, Potter, Blaise, and it's a tie between Pansy and Weasley, but personally, Pansy would have a better chance at survival because she has Slytherin cunning."

"What!" Ron cried out in outrage. "And who exactly helped save you in the Room of Requirement?"

Malfoy waved off Ron's words, saying, "Oh, sod off, Weasel. Granger would make sure that your arse is safe so that you can procreate to your heart's content when all this is over and the world needs more people."

Harry didn't think it was possible for Ron's face to turn any redder, but luckily Pansy chose that moment to continue their conversation.

"Okay, let's make this interesting. We all know Granger would save Weasley, but since you have the second best chance at survival, who would you save, Draco? Your best friend since childhood, or your boyfriend of seven months?"

Harry was curious as he brought up a piece of carrot cake to eat, but unlike before, Malfoy didn't hesitate to provide an answer.

"You, of course," Malfoy said, giving Pansy a smirk as Harry began coughing hard when cake crumbs went down the wrong way. He felt Malfoy reach out and pat him on the back a few times, purposely not using a wand, until Harry was no longer struggling to get air in his lungs.

"See? That's why I'd choose to save Pansy." Harry looked up with watery eyes as he struggled not to cough again. He saw Draco point at him and say, "Usually third time's the charm in so many things, but where Potter is concerned, cheating death shouldn't be that hard, even without magic."


	10. The Drink of the Hour

**The Drink of the Hour**  
**Hermione/Ron, Hugo, Rose [G, 1111 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: lemon.  
**Summary:** _It may be sweet and sour, but it's the drink of the hour._ - Joshua S.

* * *

The Drink of the Hour

"Mum, can we have some money. Please?" Hermione turned her head around from where she was washing the dishes to see her children sitting at the kitchen table. They looked at her with wide eyes and she supposed she looked rather different without her Ministry robes. There were soap suds floating in the air, her hair was tied back by a handkerchief, and she wore an old pair of trousers and a t-shirt. She was just starting the household chores that had been neglected throughout the week, preferring to do them the Muggle way to better see the fruit of her labors.

"Is there something you need?" Hermione rinsed and dried her hands. She took off the Stasis charm she had on the fruit salad she had prepared her kids and handed it to them.

"Nothing in particular, but Daddy promised to take us to Diagon Alley and we might want to buy something," Rose said.

"Did he?" Hermione asked, frowning. This was the first time she had heard any such thing.

"Yes, we cleaned our rooms and everything, even took out the trash!" Hugo exclaimed before taking a huge bite out of a piece of cantaloupe. Juice dribbled down his chin and Hermione gave him a napkin to wipe it off.

_At least they were honest_, Hermione thought, although she would have to have a talk with Ron about making too many promises. At the moment, he was splayed out the sofa, listening to a Chudley Cannons game on the Wireless.

Still, she couldn't say no to her kids, who had at least finished their chores without complaint. "I won't give you more since you've already received your weekly allowance, but I won't object to you earning it."

"How?" Rose asked.

"You could sell something," Hermione said, reaching over to grab a piece of grape from Hugo's plate.

Hugo's face fell and he said in a small voice, "We don't have anything to sell."

"Not quite. You can always sell lemonade." Hermione used her wand to Summon a bag of yellow lemons from the pantry. "This is what I did when I was your age and needed pocket change. My parents let me set up a lemonade stand in the park. Just keep selling cups of lemonade until you reach the amount you want."

Rose and Hugo looked at each other and grinned in excitement. "How much did should we charge?"

"Two Sickles per cup is a good start," she replied.

Hugo looked around to where Hermione had left the dirty dishes. "Who's going to take us? I know you're busy."

"Your father, of course. He'd love nothing more than to spend the day with you." She ruffled his hair as she walked to the living room. "Now finish eating while I go tell him."

Just as she'd suspected, Ron was lying on the couch, wearing his lucky Cannons jersey. A bag of crisps was placed on his stomach and on the floor next to him was a bottle of butterbeer. He almost looked like he was sleeping if his fists weren't clenched tightly as he heard the crowd jeer on the Wireless.

"Ron, you'll take kids today to the park today, right?"

He immediately sat up on the couch and knocked the bag to the floor. "What? Hermione, it's my day off! And the game just started, and Harry'll be here any minute."

"That was before you promised Rose and Hugo a trip to Diagon Alley. Besides, what did you tell me about spending more time with the kids?"

Ron looked sheepish at the remark, but still he continued with his case. "But Hermione, I'll go as soon as the match is over."

"Ron, they just want to sell lemonade. I promise you can come back the minute they have enough money to spend."

"That could take all day!" He protested, but when Hermione didn't respond and just Summoned his trainers and jacket, he knew that she wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Fine," he grumbled.

"Thank you. Don't forget to take a table with you to set up and have Hugo make a sign to hang." She smiled at him before returning to the kitchen.

While Rose and Hugo finished eating their fruit salad, Hermione made the lemonade. She cut the lemons, making sure no juice sprang into her eyes, adding brown sugar to keep the drink healthy, and then spelling the pitcher to keep it cool and fresh.

"I'm adding a replenishing charm, so that when you run out of lemonade, you don't have to come back home for more." Rose and Hugo nodded, then followed her into the living room. She handed Ron the pitcher and watched them leave, both children holding onto his right hand as they walked to the park.

Hermione returned to the sink to finish washing the dishes and left them to dry while she tackled the mess in the bedroom. She changed the linens, cleaned the windows, dusted the bookshelves she kept in the bedroom, and Vanished the trash until the room was spotless.

As soon as she had finished sorting the dirty laundry, the wards to the home shifted and she heard her children chatting excitedly. A Tempus charm revealed that they had only been gone for half an hour. When Hugo passed the door, she heard coins clink in his pockets.

"Back so soon?"

"Yes, it was too hot and the park had too many mosquitos." Hugo held out his arm and Hermione could see several red bites on his pale skin. She quickly healed them.

"Where's your father?"

"He's in the loo," Rose said, coming up behind her brother. "Mum, thanks for the idea. We made more than we thought we could." Rose opened her pouch where Hermione could see several Galleons in the mix.

"You sold all the lemonade?"

"Yes, Dad helped us so much! He was our best customer!" Hugo said, and then clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

"Is that so?" was all she said before sending them to their bedrooms to change into other clothes.

She found Ron lying on the couch, relaxing, just like before, but as soon as he heard her sit down next to him, Ron opened his eyes. He grinned when he saw Hermione shake her head.

"You amaze me sometimes, do you know that?" She began, but then let out a yelp when Ron pulled her close and kissed him. Just like she suspected, he tasted like lemons, sweet and tart, just like his disposition. When they broke apart, she laughed, saying, "You didn't have to buy all the drinks."

He shrugged. "It seemed easier that way."


	11. Refuse Thy Name

**Refuse Thy Name**  
**Hermione/Ron, Draco [PG, 771 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: What's in a name?  
I want to expand this in the future, so this is just a short scene that I've had in my mind for a while and might not make sense.  
**Summary:** _What's in a name? that which we call a rose/ By any other name would smell as sweet_- _Romeo and Juliet_ (II, ii, 1-2)  
Or, Hermione and Draco talk about baby names.

* * *

Refuse Thy Name

"It's definitely dragon pox, Mrs Keller, but I'll have Healer Granger take another look," Malfoy said as he flicked his wand to disinfect his hands. Hermione, who had been walking down the hallway when she heard his comments, saw Malfoy grimace at the young boy and she shook her head. The boy was covered in blisters, shivering as he wrapped his arms tightly around himself. His mother stood right next to him, combing back his sweat-slicked hair away from his face. Even though she was just about to head out on her lunch break, Hermione entered the room.

"Hello, I'm Healer _Weasley_," she emphasized as she greeted the mother and child, looking at Malfoy for an explanation, but he just handed her the child's medical records. Before she could read the information, she cast diagnostic spells to make sure the boy didn't have any other serious illness. When the results were revealed, Hermione placed a Silencing charm so that they could speak without alarming the patient.

"Just like I told them, Granger, it's dragon pox." Malfoy sounded bored as he crossed his arms and looked at her. "I don't understand why the mother is making a big deal out of something that is easily cured."

"She just doesn't want her son to be in pain and sick. You need to work on your bedside manner."

"It's not my fault if they can't handle the truth. That's why I send them to you. I diagnose and you deal with the treatment and emotions, and so on."

"You can't keep doing that." Malfoy raised an eyebrow when she continued, "Honestly, you'll confuse the patients if you keep referring them to a Healer Granger."

"But there's far too many Weasleys; won't that confuse them even further?" He smirked when she remained quiet for a moment, flustered, before she pushed him away.

"Oh, honestly, Malfoy, if you're just going to argue about something useless as my married name, make yourself useful and bring me back lunch."

"Sure thing, Granger," he laughed quietly before disappearing.

* * *

He brought her back take away from her favourite Indian place. It was worth going out to Muggle London just to see her eyes widen in surprise. For himself, he abhorred any spicy concoction, so he chose instead a simple pastry, a chocolate éclair, and a cup of hot chocolate.

"What treatment did the brat end up having?" Malfoy asked, taking a bite out of his pastry as Hermione almost choked on her food.

"Malfoy! Don't call him that. He really _was_ sick," Hermione chided him. "Sometimes I wonder why you choose to specialize in pediatric care after healer training." She shook her head just as he was about to speak and said, "Never mind. I don't want to know the answer. I'm sure it's something absurd." Malfoy scoffed, but otherwise didn't say anything.

After taking a sip of her drink, Hermione said, "Oh, I meant to ask earlier, are you still coming over for dinner tonight? Harry's bringing Al."

"Why would I do that?" Draco frowned as he stared at the bottom of his cup. He didn't want to spend his only free night among Weasleys and Potters starring at a bawling baby. "So what if the Saviour had another kid? That doesn't mean we should all be fusing over it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine, don't go. But you'll be missing out on seeing Albus Severus. He's adorable."

Now Malfoy did spit out his drink. "What did Potter name his sprog?"

"Albus, but we just call him Al."

Malfoy shook his head. "Poor kid, he's already doomed. Let's just hope he doesn't get his father's eyesight. Or hair."

"Too late, he looks just like his dad, green eyes and all." She took another bite of her food and then asked, "What would you name your kid, then?"

Malfoy sat up straighter and looked proud as he said, "Scorpius."

She snorted. "What a pretentious name."

Now Malfoy smiled. "I know. I'm going to keep the Black family tradition of naming children after constellations. What about you? What name has the honour of being bestowed upon the first child in the brood that every Weasley has?"

"Rose," Hermione responded, ready for the ridicule that Malfoy could dish out.

"How quaint, Granger," he said, crumbling up the greasy paper his pastry had come wrapped in.

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy. You're one to say anything. Scorpius, indeed. That kid will be born with a silver spoon stuck in his arse. And for the last time, my name's Hermione _Weasley_."

He couldn't resist one more jab before returning to work. "What, no hyphen?"


	12. Luck of the Irish

**Luck of the Irish**  
**Harry/Draco [PG, 879 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: take a chance on me. Also, I admit this is a mess, something to get me back into writing after being sick for a while.  
**Summary:** Harry wants to get lucky so he kisses the only Irish person he knows, with interesting results.

* * *

Luck of the Irish

"Potter, why in the hell did you think kissing Finnegan would be a good idea?" Malfoy says, following Harry to a table in the back, away from all the rowdy people so they can talk, even casting a Silencing charm for good measure.

"Because he's Irish and it's St. Patrick's Day? I don't know, I was desperate!" Harry feels his face heat up, and he would rather be home in bed right now after a long shift, but Malfoy insisted and he could never say no to him.

"But Finnegan of all people? He's uncouth, clearly drunk off his arse, unrefined-" Malfoy sat in the chair as he continued, knees almost touching, and Harry fights the urge to fidget in response. It's not easy when Malfoy riles him up so.

"Hey, don't speak about my friends that way, Malfoy! Besides, why do you care?"

Malfoy arches an eyebrow at Harry's outburst. "I don't. It's that I need my auror partner sane and ready in case anything happens."

_Of course,_ Harry thinks, _because it can never be anything else_. He hides his disappointment with a sip of his drink and says, "The most people will be is drunk, which isn't a crime in itself, last time I checked. However, if anything were to happen, you'd happily throw the book at them."

"Why Potter, is that a compliment? I'm flattered." Malfoy grins at him and Harry looks away, rolling his eyes.

"I don't see how you should be worried, you've been receiving all sorts of offers today- including three marriage proposals," Harry mutters under breath, but Malfoy still hears him and laughs.

"Forget about them, they don't have a chance with me. However, you should be the one beating them off with a stick and yet you resort to Finnegan? Out of all of the blokes you could have kissed, why him?"

Harry blushes, and not for the first time he ponders the brilliance of walking up to Seamus in the Ministry canteen and kissing him. Oh, right. He was being followed by strangers with requests to kiss him and he wanted it to stop. He only wants to kiss Malfoy and perhaps do something more Except if he said that to Malfoy, he would most certainly be laughed at.

"It's St Patrick's Day and I wanted to get lucky and he's the only Irish person I know. Short of kissing a leprechaun, that is. Besides, between the whole 'Kiss Me I'm Irish' and "Luck of the Irish,' I get confused and panicked." Harry's rambling and he know it, but all he can hope for is that Malfoy thinks he's drunk already.

Malfoy snorts at the remark, almost spilling his pint down his shirt. "You know, if I were drunk enough, I'd almost believe that. But that makes no sense." He shakes his head points to Harry's outfit of a t-shirt and trousers, all charmed green and says, "You're clearly dressed to pull tonight. And yet with everyone drunk, you've still no takers."

Harry puts his head down on the table and groans. "I know, but it's not for the lack of trying, hence kissing Seamus. Hermione says I'm not forward enough, and that I'll always be alone if I wait for the person I want to make the first move." He sits back up and throws back the last of his drink.

"So who has caught the attention of the Boy Wonder?" The way Malfoy says it casually, as if they are the best of friends discussing Harry's love life, makes Harry forget that Malfoy's just his work partner and he responds with a soft, "you."

Harry's eyes grow wide as he realizes what he just said. He can't look at Malfoy now, because he doesn't want to see the rejection that will without doubt be there. Instead, he just reaches inside his pockets and throws coins on the table, mumbling out apologies. He's out the door and running to the Apparition point when something catches on the back of his shirt and he's pulled around.

"Look at me, Harry," Malfoy says, and the use of his first name is enough to make him comply.

"What?" Harry whispers, looking up and seeing Malfoy give him a very serious look. It's the kind that he has when he's talking to Minister Kingsley, but with Harry, there's no politeness, but something akin to desire. His eyes are silver in the moonlight, and it makes Harry catch his breath, especially with the next words.

"Take a chance on me."

"What?" Harry repeats, because right now his heart is beating wildly in his chest at the words he's waited so long to hear.

"You heard me. If you meant everything you've said, then find some of that Gryffindor courage and do something about it."

Harry searches Malfoy's face, doesn't want this to be the result of being drunk, but his eyes are clear and there's no smell of alcohol on his breath that mingles with the evening air.

"Okay, Malfoy, I'm going to kiss you now."

And when Malfoy finally kisses him back, Harry throws his arms around his neck, sliding his fingers through the soft hair. The shamrock he had been holding in his hands all day falls to the ground, forgotten.


	13. The Bedroom Rune

**The Bedroom Rune**  
**Harry, Hermione, Draco [G, 429 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and written for hp_may_madness, using the prompt: runes.  
**Summary:** Harry asks Hermione about a particular rune that Malfoy has placed on his bedroom door.

* * *

The Bedroom Rune

"It looks like excellent spellwork to me, Harry," Hermione said as she looked over the list of runes written on the parchment. It was a standard set of runes: _algiz_ for protection; _dagaz_ for happiness and success; _berkana_ for healing. The runes that had already been cleared were crossed out.

There was one thing, however, that puzzled her. At the bottom, written in Harry's tiny scribble, was _bedroom: ?_

"Are you sure? I mean, Malfoy didn't look like he was plotting evil when he keyed the runes into my home, but you never know." Harry ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier than before.

"He's a well-respected Ministry employee; of course he won't do anything to jeopardize that," Hermione said.

"I know that, but well, he hardly talked to me when he was here and gave one-word responses to questions I had. Then after he had left, I went to my bedroom to take a nap, and I could feel the strength of his magical signature. I cast a few basic charm used to detect Dark magic and well, it's better if you see it." He motioned for her to follow him up the stairs.

"See," Harry said, waving a hand in front of the door. Against the dark cherry wood, a silver rune shone brilliantly, almost taking up the entire door.

Hermione gasped and went to stand closer to the door. "Are you sure that you didn't ask him to do this? It doesn't strike me as something that he would do voluntarily."

"You saw the list, Hermione. Besides, I checked every book about runes I could find in the Black library, but I couldn't find out what this meant."

"Malfoy might just have some secrets of his own," Hermione said, tracing the rune that had been branded onto the wooden door. Just as Harry had said, Hermione could feel Malfoy's magic settle protectively over her. She brought her hand back when she felt a little shock.

"Sorry, I should have warned you it did that. Have you seen this before?" Harry asked, and there was a hint of hope in his eyes.

"Yes," she said, turning to look at him with wonder. "I'll have to ask Professor Vector to make sure I'm right, but I think Malfoy cast the _gebo_ rune. Its primary meaning is gift, but there's a less common meaning," she trailed off, looking back at the door.

"It's not something evil?"

"I should hope not," Hermione murmured. "You see, what I find peculiar is that it's the closest rune to love."


	14. By the Sea

**By the Sea**  
**Harry/Draco, Lucas (OC) [PG, 739 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: sea glass.  
**Summary:** Draco walks along the sea shore years later, long after Harry's death, because it was one of Harry's favourite places.

* * *

By the Sea

Draco walks along the sea shore years later, long after Harry's death, because it was one of Harry's favourite places.

Harry loved the ocean, standing in the sand because it grounded him, reminded him that even though he was the Savior, he was just one human with endless possibilities. Then he would turn and smile, making Draco's breath hitch, before Harry hauled him onto his back and ran in to the ocean with him.

He would sink into the darkness, the cold making him numb and unforgiving, limbs thrashing in the water as he tried to rise to the top. Draco would begin to panic when he would feel a pair of arms wrap around his chest, holding him close so that he couldn't escape.

At that point, he would welcome sweet oblivion until he was pulled to the surface to be greeted by blue sky, taking in lungfuls of air, yellow sunlight and Harry's wide smile. He didn't know which was brighter, but he would do his best to forget the cold by hugging and kissing Harry.

Harry, who would tan easily, have beautiful sun-kissed skin by the end of each visit, while Draco was stuck with red skin as it burned, and then peel later, no matter how much sun lotion and healing charms he used.

And on each visit while Draco waited underneath an umbrella, he would watch Harry walk along the shore and every so often collect something from the ground and place it in the pail he carried. When Draco had taken a look and had only seen sea glass, he said, "I just don't see why you want broken glass."

"Don't scowl, Draco," Harry said, taking out a green and white piece. "It's not just glass. It's something marvelous. It took years and years of nature to take a piece of broken glass, jagged and broken, too keep at it until it became smooth and frosted, something beautiful." He had given Draco a knowing look and another warm smile for Draco to understand what Harry was trying to tell him.

Draco had held onto the two pieces, almost in the shape of stars and had them set on their wedding bands. This was what he thought of on every visit because he could feel Harry's presence here the most, hear it calling out to him with every wave that crashed on shore, the shrill cry of the sea gulls, the salty air, and the warmth of the sun setting over him.

"Papa!" A voice calls out to him and Draco turns around as a young boy runs towards him with a bucket swinging at his side. His unruly blond hair is made a mess with sand and water slicking it down and it will be near impossible to clean. The boy wears only swim trunks and his skin is turning a golden brown as the sun begins to set. Despite the cold the evening brings, his bright green eyes are filled with happiness as he finally reaches Draco, out of breath.

"What is it, Lucas?" Draco bends down so that he's at eye level with his son.

"Look," he says excitedly, unclenching his fist to show him. It's a flat piece of green sea glass, the exact shade of Lucas James Potter's eyes, but on one side is a lightning-shaped scratch. Draco has to look away so that his son doesn't see the anguished look on his face.

"Wonderful," he says instead and his face is composed when the turns and hugs his son and takes the half-full bucket of sea glass. "Are you ready to go home, or do you want to collect more glass?"

"No, I'm ready, Papa. Do you think it will be enough?' Without looking inside the bucket, Draco nods and Lucas' face splits into a wide smile. On every visit, Lucas and Draco collect sea glass so that when they arrive home, Draco spells the glass onto the window in their kitchen. It is a mosaic of greens, whites and a hint of blue and every time Draco looks at it, his smiles sadly. It's almost complete.

However, with the lightning bolt sea glass, he'll craft it into an amulet for Lucas to wear to be safe, almost as if Harry is out there, watching over his son. And for the first time since his heart shattered with Harry's death, he can feel it slowly starting to heal.


	15. Aubergine

**Aubergine**  
**Harry/Draco, Lily Luna [PG, 619 words]**  
**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling and co own everything. I'm writing for fun and not for profit.  
**A/N:** unbeta'd and written for hp_may_madness using the prompt: strawberry. This is the last one for this collection of drabbles, and since I've been reading entries in the HarryDracoMpreg fest, I thought I'd try my hand at mpreg. Slight crack!fic and aubergine is the British equivalent of eggplant.  
**Summary:** Harry's had some strange cravings when he was carrying Lily, so Draco's convinced it's his fault she doesn't have blond hair.

* * *

Aubergine

"For the last fucking time, Potter, she doesn't have red hair!" Draco cries out and that brings a whimper of fear from the baby in Draco's arms. He looks down and begins to rock her, cooing and making faces in order to ease her discomfort. Wide grey eyes stare back at Draco as he brushes away the curls that have fallen onto her forehead.

No Malfoy would ever dream of having red hair and while Draco cannot deny that it is not black like Potter's, or the white blond he's known for, it is _not_ red. Lily will not be a ginger. At most, he'll concede that it's strawberry blond, a fruit just as sweet as his daughter.

He hears a sigh coming from behind him and the next moment, Potter is just next to him, holding out a lavender sundress for Lily. "Draco," Potter begins as he takes Lily from his arms and puts her down to undress and change her nappy. "There's nothing wrong with red hair. It's gorgeous and you know for a fact that she's yours because I carried her and you laughed at my misfortune all through the pregnancy." He pulls that dress over her, taking care to soothe out the wrinkles and straighten loose buttons before taking her over to the dresser.

"I know that, Potter, but everyone will think she's Ginevra's daughter, and you know how much she still carries a torch for you." Draco tries to squash down all the memories of the youngest Weasley trying to sink her claws into Harry. It doesn't help that he has to see her attempts at every Sunday brunch at the Burrow.

When Lily begins to whimper, Draco goes and takes her from Harry. "It's your fault, you know," Draco says, taking a brush and gently combing the soft hair. He scowls when he sees a red shine when the sunlight hits it.

Harry frowns. "Oh, yes, because I've got control that my mother was a ginger."

"What?" Draco stops brushing Lily's hair. He turns to give a puzzled glance at Harry. "What does that have to do with anything? I just meant that you craved strawberries like crazy during your pregnancy, so according to lore, it's all your fault!"

"My fault?"

"Yes! Haven't you heard of _you are what you eat?_ Well it's true! It might sound Muggle, but it isn't. It came from our world and that's why there are Muggle myths of women giving birth to watermelons and baby kittens and other nonsense. There's some truth to those myths, and that's why I prohibited certain foods because I didn't want to have this problem. I couldn't stop everything you ate. You and the weird cravings of pickles and ice cream, tabasco sauce on everything, and strawberries with marmalade. Disgusting!" Draco trailed off and glared when he heard Harry start to laugh.

"You know, I really have to sit you down with Hermione and have her explain genetics with you and how everything is a possibility. Honestly, to think that eating strawberries determines hair colour." He leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. "Otherwise, you might make me eat nothing but pears for the next few months."

Draco stood there, mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to process this information.

"Are you serious, Potter?"

Harry grinned. "It's too soon to tell, but I've been sick these past few mornings, and I have an appointment next week to make sure."

Draco looked down at Lily and said, "Well, what do you know, another Potter in this world. Maybe this time, it'll have a proper hair colour."

"I wouldn't be so sure. I have the strangest cravings for aubergine."


End file.
